Welcome to My Spider Dance
by I Was NotA Robot
Summary: Up close, Roman Torchwick's teeth aren't as sharp as he says they are, and his bark is hardly worse than his bite. The real question is, who's afraid of the big, bad wolf? Certainly not Ruby. (Rosewick)
1. Get Caught in My Spider Dance

_Who's afraid of the big, bad wolf?_

* * *

 _GAME_

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It starts off as a game of cat and mouse. He was enough of a fool to peer through the branches of the trees and watch the red-cloaked girl in the silver moonlight, and she was enough of a fool to tuck her scythe back into her basket and pretend she didn't see his beady eyes.

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* * *

 _TRAP_

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Blake Belladonna is gone, and team RWBY (minus said missing girl) is standing back-to-back in the middle of a warehouse, shooting, stabbing, and kicking. The still night peeks through the rafters of the open ceiling, and the cold, silver moon laughs down at them in a beam of light.

"This is a waste of time," Yang growled, punching through another row of henchmen. "We need to -"

" _Hello_ , Red, Blondie, and _Ice Queen_ -" a familiar voice growled. Atop a stack of metal crates, Roman Torchwick grinned triumphantly down at them, twirling his cane in his hands.

"Hey!"

"Come for a friend?"

"Take care of them, I'll get him!" she called to her teammates, and Yang gave a slight nod. Weiss vaulted over a beam and a flash of icy white light exploded several feet away. Yells and shouts were heard, and the heiress flipped gracefully through the air over the chaos, sword trailing blue sparks behind her.

 _They've got this._

* * *

"Where is Blake?"

Crescent Rose whistles through the air, and her aim is true.

The curve of the blade is a hair length distance from his Adam's apple. The man grins, but she sees the caution in his eyes and notices that he takes care not to swallow.

"Are you nervous yet?" she says sweetly, smiling at him will all her teeth.

"For such a young girl, you're quite feisty. I like it."

* * *

Ruby is fast, and Roman is cunning. He is coy, and she is angry. They are evenly matched, even if she doesn't _feel_ like the ground is even.

She lifted her scythe and effectively destroyed six metal crates in a single sweep.

"Hey, you! Get down here!" she hollered.

"Well, look who just discovered Santa Claus isn't real." he commented snidely, flipping from the tipping edge of one of the crates and landing on the ground with both feet. Torchwick smiled, and rushed at her.

She focused on the man running toward her with malice in his eyes and a grin on his lips. Ruby doesn't hesitate before she leaps into the air and lifts Crescent Rose high above her. As she started her descent, she flipped the blade around to fall with her. When it came down, it cracked the cement below her before her feet even touched the ground. "Careful, there!" Torchwick snapped, jumping back at the last moment. "If you're not careful there, you might hurt someone -"

"AHHHHH!"

The sharpened blade swung back and forth at lightning speed, each time missing by less than an inch. As his smirk deepened, her fury only increased. Was this how Yang felt every time her vision tinted red and fire erupted from her hair? This stupid _asshole_ was the single most _infuriating_ criminal she'd ever had the misfortune to meet. She wants more than anything to reach over and punch him in his stupid face - but she can't, because she's holding her scythe, and physical breaking someone's nose wasn't really her specialty - violence wasn't usually her first resort, but when crooks with bowler hats, eyeliner, and canes that turned into guns and grappling hooks, she tended to let her instincts take over.

He's behind her, and she can _feel_ him breathing down her neck (quite literally), but she just can't _catch him_ because he is mirroring her movements and it's so _frustrating_ because she's supposed to the fast one and when did he get so freaking good? She shifted to the side and whirled around, determined to elbow him in the side, but Torchwick just stepped to the side along with her. She twirled in a circle, craning her neck to try to get a look at her opponent - one jade eye winked back at her and -

The impact of his cane on the side of her head is enough to knock her out of this angry stupor and onto the pavement. "Usually, I don't hit defenseless little girls, but I can always make exceptions -"

"HIYAH!"

Using a leg to kick out from under his feet, she scoffed as the word _defenseless_ flashed through her mind. The man had a split second to roll out of the way before a gray-edged blade slammed into the ground next to him, sending stone chunks flying.

"Gee, little Red, anger issues much – OOF!" he staggered back when the butt of her weapon slammed into his stomach. Straightening up, he used his cane to deflect the barrage of slices and jabs from the scythe – the blur of gray and red in the air was flurried and nearly impossible to see. When the blunt edge of her weapon gave a particularly loud _CLANG_ against his cane, he growled in frustration. Ruby jerked a well-placed knee upward, and he doubled over. As he fell, his grip on his weapon loosened and it clattered on the ground, and rolled to a stop several feet away. She took the brief moment of distraction to swivel on one foot and deliver a roundhouse kick to the face. On his hands and knees, he glared up at her and got to his feet. Torchwick shot one look at his discarded cane and grimaced.

"Alright, dear, no more messing around." he said, voice as smooth as silk and coy as a snake.

Fast as a flash, he moved to pin her hands against the crate behind her. Her body slammed into the aluminum wall, and she winced as the wind was knocked out of her. Her hands were raised above his head, and a leg was pressed against her knees.

When it came down to single hand-to-hand combat, she was definitely quicker, more agile, nimbler, better. But he was still stronger, and had more than ten years on her. He had her cornered, and his breath was hot against her neck. They both knew how it would've looked to an outsider unaware of the fact that they'd been at each other's throats mere seconds ago.

Their faces were inches apart, and Ruby felt the tension as acutely as she felt the chafing of his pant leg between her legs. A tingling sensation started in the base of her stomach - she had a feeling that it has nothing to do with the impact of being slammed against the wall.

"Face it, Red, you're out of your league." he whispered, lips brushing against her earlobe. She can't help it; she shudders. Ruby can feel his lips curve upward in a smile.

* * *

 _TRUST_

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"RUBY!"

The young woman running toward her is her friend, ebony hair streaming behind her. Her precious bow is clasped in her hand along with an unsheathed blade. Blake's amber eyes are wide in determination, and her exposed cat ears twitch ever so slightly. A young man is right behind Blake, tall and lean, with fiery hair and a blank white mask with four slits for eyeholes that sends shivers down her spine.

"Ah, Blake -?"

"This is Adam – he's a friend." she says shortly. "He'll cover us." Ruby notices the weapon in his hand, splattered with blood. His emotionless expression. The hard line of his mouth. He looks cold and grim.

"Wasn't he part of the White Fang?" she whispered from the side of her mouth - maybe being discreet wasn't her style. Blake didn't even blink.

"He helped me escape. And he's – I'm – well -"

She is hesitant, but Blake is certain. And Ruby trusts her friends.

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* * *

 _CHANGE_

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Ruby knows something is wrong when she steps inside the bathroom only to find two inches of soapy water in the bathtub with a thick tangle of golden hair floating at the top. She jumped back, dropped her toothbrush, and screams.

The door crashes open, and there is Yang, head wrapped in a towel. She barged through the doorway, takes one look at Ruby's horror-stricken face, and assumes an unreadable expression.

"Ruby, I'm sorry, I was going to clean it up -"

"WHAT IS THAT?" she shrieked at the top of her lungs, pointing wildly at the tub. "IS THAT -?"

"I was just cutting my hair, and -"

"WHAT?" she shrieked again. The windows rattled, and her older sister winced. "You've _never_ cut your hair, Yang! Not even when we were kids!" Ruby cried.

Everything was changing, and this was bad. This was really, really bad. Ruby sat down on the edge of the tub, head in her hands.

"I don't get what the big deal is about." Yang said, kneeling beside her. "I just thought that it got in the way a bit. I can't even begin to count the number of times it got tugged in combat, or got caught in a tree or something. Remember last year when we went with Blake to that fishing shop, and my hair got caught in that fishing pole?"

"Yeah," Ruby mumbled through her hands, eyes glued to the floor.

"It was awful," Yang chuckled, glancing at the tub. "And remember when that guy grabbed my hair a few months ago, in the alleyway? He had a knife to my throat, and he wouldn't let go."

"Thank goodness for manly parts." she said quietly. Yang put an arm around her.

"Yeah, thank goodness for manly parts. Look, it's not even a bob. I used the kitchen scissors, so it's a pretty blunt job, nothing fancy. And it won't looked jacked up; it looks fine. Wanna see?"

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Yang was right, as usual. She looked beautiful.

* * *

 _SUNAY_

It is raining outside.

The sky is gray, and it is raining outside.

It is night, and it is raining outside.

The drops of water rolling down the large glass windows only add to the dullness of the scenery. The slick of the streets shows a dangerous luster coating the pavements that's sure to send tires skidding and the worms crawling out of the ground and onto the sidewalk. It's a dreary night, an awful night.

There's no use celebrating if she can't even bring herself to smile.

* * *

Ruby spots Roman Torchwick in a bar among blinking lights and loud music. More accurately, he spots her, swinging her feet on the rungs of her stool. He took one look and sat down in the seat next to her, swiveling around to face her. He's dressed smartly in white and black, with copper hair hanging over one side of his face. A gloved hand gripped the handle of the cane she knew he didn't need.

"Hello, Red."

* * *

 _Let's take it back_

 _Back to reality, the real world_

 _Oh, you, you, you and me together_

 _Not wondering why_

 _Let's take it back_

 _Back to the place I wanted_

 _Back when all we did was feel it_

 _Oh back when we didn't try_

* * *

"YOU!" she growled, reaching for her weapon, before she realized – it was back in her dorm room, leaning against her bunkbed.

"Me." Torchwick sighed and cocked an eyebrow. Ruby spluttered, nearly incomprehensible.

"What – how – where -" she sputtered.

"What am I doing here? How come I'm not rotting away in a prison cell like the rest of my villainous comrades? Where did I come from?" he sneered. "Grow up, Red. I think the _real_ question is what a cute little girl like yourself doing in a place like this?" he smirked.

* * *

 _Cause' I decided that I can't be with you_

 _Cause when the lights went out_

 _I went and blacked out on you_

 _And when it's over_

 _I'll know who's left to tell the truth_

 _When my visions gone_

 _No song can play reminding me of you_

* * *

She bristled; she was seventeen by now, and was clearly not a child any longer. Her dress was gray and fitted, with a teasing skirt that stopped mid-thigh. Black beads decorated the bodice and sheer sleeves, and adorned a modest neckline. Her eyes were carefully lined, and earrings dangled from her earlobes. According to Yang, she looked grown-up enough to sneak past the twenty-years and older rule as did most of her friends. To Ruby's surprise (and slight disappointment), she was right. The security guards at nightclubs really needed to be able to tell makeshift fake ID's made from cardboard and construction paper from the genuine article - or maybe they just didn't care.

Either way, frankly, it was a bit offending that she was still considered a _child_ \- even if it was by a long-time criminal who's opinion clearly didn't matter.

"Jail doesn't really suit me, you know," he said, waving a dismissive hand. She stood up (several inches taller than usual, thanks to heels), leaned forward, and poked an angry finger in his chest. "Whoa, personal space there, Red." he muttered under his breath, an underlying edge to his voice.

"You're a murderer, a thief, and a liar," she growled.

"Your point?"

"My _point_ is that if I had Crescent Rose with me right now, I would _definitely_ kick your butt and haul you back to prison."

"But…?"

"But, lucky for you," she paused and sighed, "my baby is currently…not here, and today is not the day to pick a fight in a bar, no matter how despicable that person may or not be." Ruby plopped back down heavily on her stool, leaning on her elbows in defeat.

"And why is that?" he asked, leaning back to prop his elbows on the narrow counter behind him.

"It's my Birthday." she shared stiffly, gritting her teeth. "And I'm going…out." Torchwick assumed an expression of mock elation.

"Oh, how lovely! A little _birthday_ outing to treat yourself? I should've guessed! Your friends are here with you, after all." He cast his eyes around the bar and pointed with a thin finger. "The Faunus then, over there, the one in the backless dress? There's your sister – my, what a low cut dress, have she any decency?" Ruby wants to punch him in his stupid face. "And the heiress; Lord, with all the white she's wearing, you'd think she was some sort of runaway bride -"

"Are you going somewhere with this?" she cut in dryly, crossing her legs. Ruby made a mental note to avoid eye contact from this point forward; as much as she hated to admit, he looked quite attractive at the moment. It must the adrenaline, or the lighting. Either way, she didn't need her mouth running a mile a minute, not now.

"Of course – all I mean is that I need to get you a birthday gift. It's not every day that a girl turns -?"

"Seventeen."

* * *

 _Let's take it back_

 _Back to just a camera flashing_

 _Oh when you hit me_

 _Capturing my soul as a real girl_

 _Oh let's take it back_

 _Back to two smiles reminiscing_

 _Oh back to two loves laying laughing_

 _Oh everything else came a blur_

* * *

"It's on me." He tugged at the lapels of his coat, as if prompting her to thank him for her generosity. Had she been younger and softer, she would've thanked him, but he was met with silence and a stony glare. "Fine," he muttered. "Hey, Junior," he called. A burly man with shades and thick, dark hair reached under the counter on the other side and rummaged around.

"Shots?"

"Shots." he confirmed, before shooting Ruby a look. "For our special birthday girl. Don't worry; I'm familiar with the bartender -"

"Familiar as in?"

"Familiar as in I threatened his family several years ago and now I get free shots. The point is, it's good quality, and if you're ever draining your sorrows alone on your birthday, then I know from experience that you need a good burst of alcohol to feel marginally better." He grinned, resting his chin on his hand.

"Gee, come here often?" Ruby said under her breath, ignoring his 'advice'. She'd never tasted alcohol before, but according to her sister, it was heaven in a bottle. It couldn't be too bad, right?

"Birthday shots for the man and his little girlfriend." 'Junior' announced, sliding a tray laden with small glasses and lemon slices across the counter, along with a dish of white salt.

"I'm not his -"

"Thanks, Junior. Put it on my tab." he interrupted, before turning to Ruby.

"You _do_ know what to do with this, correct?"

Ruby eyed the glasses with a scrutinized expression. "Of course – I've seen Yang do this a million times." she mused aloud, more to herself than to her unwanted partner.

She licked her palm and pretended not to notice the way he followed the movement of her tongue over her skin. She added salt and licked her hand again. The strong taste nearly made her gag, but she couldn't lose face in front of him. Gripping the small glass tightly in hand, she sent a flickering glance in Roman's general direction before she raised it to her lips and threw her head back.

The unfamiliar taste of alcohol nearly triggered her gag reflex. Before she could spit and choke, she forced the lemon slice into her mouth and bit down.

Roman watched on in amusement, tapping his fingers on the bar counter and his cane against the floor.

"How was that?" he asked with a smile. Ruby glared at him with watering eyes and flushed cheeks.

"I hate you," she rasped, shoving away the pile of 'birthday gifts'. He quickly caught the tray of shot glasses before they hit the floor, steadying them on the counter again before a drop of liquid spilled.

"Shots should never be wasted." Shooting the bartender a look, he slapped a few dollar bills onto the counter and stood up while she was still licking the roof of her mouth, trying to get the taste out.

" _ACK –_ says _you_."

"Happy Birthday, Red." he told her, before pushing through the crowd and slipping through the door. The music of the club follows him, from the sidewalk to the slick bricks of the street, and into the night.

* * *

 _Oh maybe he's crude boy_

 _Maybe he's a perv boy_

 _Maybe he's a lover hiding under the covers_

 _Maybe he's just, just figuring it out_

 _Or maybe he's a child_

 _Or maybe he's a soldier_

 _All I really know is he's got me on his finger_

 _But baby I need to get out_

* * *

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" _DON'T LET HER GET AWAY!"_

" _YANG, NO!"_

" _Ruby, I'll be fine – don't worry about me."_

" _Okay. I trust you."_

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 _And she did trust her. She trusted her sister with everything. With secrets, with acceptance, with her life. She trusted her before she came to Beacon, she trusted her after she came to Beacon, and she trusted her after Cinder showed up and everything went to hell. Most importantly, she trusted Yang now as she sped toward the vast ocean of blue water and suffocating darkness with a nuclear bomb in hand._

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* * *

 _BORN_

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Every spring, Ruby visits her mother's grave. This year, the birds are out, and the grass waves and whispers things that go unheard. The sky is blue and crystal clear. Another stone stands next to her mother's, and yellow marigolds are planted neatly in front of it.

Black words and a date are printed on the gray surface, but Ruby doesn't have to read them to tear up.

She turns on her heel and leaves without saying a word. She doesn't have to.

Yang is gone.

* * *

 _BIG AND BAD_

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Roman Torchwick is just as big as he portrays himself, and just as bad as he's proved himself over the years. So of course, when he sees his darling little Red in her cape and dark boots, he just can't resist sinking his fangs into whatever he can reach.

* * *

 _PROPOSE_

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They meet again, years later, when Ruby Rose is all grown up.

Twenty-two has treated her well. The angles of her face have narrowed, and her bone structure has become gracefully defined. Her lips are dark, and her wide eyes have darkened a hue – the silver irises that surround her pupils have gained storm clouds now, and she sees through a stormy gray.

Her dark hair drapes past her shoulders and shadows her face. Pale skin shines through this curtain of curls, unblemished and unscarred.

Roman Torchwick is not fooled. He sees that she is different.

She is still petite and a small figure punching and biting and screaming at the weight of the world. But her limbs are strong, and her reflexes are quick.

She's grown up now. The little girl in the red cape who smiles and laughs and is blind to what the world really is like is just a ghost, a faded memory planted in the back of his mind.

* * *

She hasn't felt anything like in a long time. She's _never_ felt anything like this, actually, and it's a good feeling.

She wraps her legs around his waist and he crushes her mouth against his, and all is well. His hand rests against the small of her back and he cradles her head with the other.

They are silent and furious, as not to wake her roommates and to satisfy each other's need. Blankets are draped over a sleeping heiress and pillows are propped under the head of a sleeping Faunus. They are both dreaming in their own worlds, and Ruby in hers. But she is not dreaming _(what a shame)._

He breaths into her, and she inhales him. It feels nice to be wanted, it feels nice to be _held_ , even if it's by a shadow from her past. Never mind the age gap; it's only ten years or so, and it would hardly be the only skeleton her family has had.

* * *

 _SILENT_

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Sometimes, when the window creaked in the dead of night, Ruby would look back and see a pair of golden eyes staring through the darkness.

"I understand." the cat whispered one morning when Weiss was out brushing her teeth and Ruby was rearranging the lump of pillows that had been shoved underneath her covers.

"Yeah?" she asked into the air, pretending to be absentminded. She needs to be sure that Blake _knows_ and only then will she turn around.

"I get it – I know you've been sneaking out of the dorm for a few months now. I figured it was important."

Ruby remained silent.

"I know what it is. And I just want you to know, I – I've been there. The creeping around, and crying yourself to sleep when you don't think anybody is awake, the _wishing_ , I know. And I just figured that…if you ever needed someone to talk to, then…I'm here."

She wants to cry. She wants to turn around and hug her tight and whisper _thank you_ into her shoulder. But then Weiss barges through the door, wailing at the top of her lungs that she will catch the culprit who replaced all the toothpaste with glitter.

 _"Nora."_ they both say, and a giggle can be heard throughout the hallway.

* * *

" _Is it_ love _, Roman?" the woman asked, golden eyes alight with malice and something resembling amusement._

 _The wallpaper of the room is peeling, and the crumbled piles of brick fail to add color to the pale interior, weathered and faded with age. Cinder has become quite irritating; he's wondered time and time again why she isn't_ dead _yet. He would've figured that someone would've gotten tired of her and slit her throat in the night. But she's too careful for that – she's too good at what she does. She's a problem._

 _He didn't answer, and after a pause that seems to stretch for hours of heated time, she turns and heads for the door, heels clicking on the worn wooden floorboards._

 _He stared after her, and raised one gloved hand to wipe the lipstick stain off of his neck._

* * *

The little girl in the red cape has conquered her fears, and now she's conquered him.

* * *

" _I'm impressed, Red. I didn't think you had it in you."_

 _Gray eyes stare back at him, and one side of a red mouth twitches upward._

" _Wanna go again?"_

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 ** _fin_**

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 _The song used in the bar scene is called BLACKOUT by Frankie._

 _The main pairing is Torchwick/Ruby, but Adam and Blake is more subtly hinted at. I'd really appreciate reviews. : )_

 _I get that Ruby and Torchwick isn't the most…respected ship, mostly because of the assembled age difference and the fact that he's tried to kill her and her friends and that's super messed up (speaking in one breath now), but I think that in a darker world, in a grittier world, and in a universe where messed up things happen, it wouldn't be the strangest occurrence._

 _I'm not attempting to romanticize massive age differences, but I just think that based on the premise and their character designs, they'd make an interesting pairing._


	2. tHE maN In ThE bELLy oF tHe bEASt

_He got eaten. Death approaches. How could anyone, even someone as slimy as Roman Torchwick, avoid that?_

 _Simple. For Ruby Rose, her monsters never truly die._

 _Not even when they wink and kiss her goodbye, which was exactly what he was planning to do._

* * *

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Ever since he first set eyes on her, he knew he'd have it out for her.

It was too tempting – and how tempting she was. Young, small, innocent, and altogether too naïve to piece together how the world worked. Clueless. But she was skilled – clever on the battlefield, determined, and _fast._ Fast enough to be a challenge on her good days, and amusing enough to be _interesting._

He is her first. He's the first bad guy, the first _real_ bad guy, she's ever faced. He can see it in her eyes. And oh, how it excites him.

He can kill her. He knows that now. He's been going easy on her so far. She has potential, a certain familiar fire and wit – but that best be snuffed out before it turns into something more. He's had his fun – it's time for the finale.

Red is fast and clever, but he is smarter, and he always wins. She's right there _– take the shot, take the shot._

Then he gets eaten.

How humiliating.

* * *

The walls around him retract and tighten, and he tumbles through the darkness, the starry night disappears from view, and his last glimpse of a white moon is cut short as the thing shuts its mouth, and rows of jagged teeth clash down.

As he tumbles through the rough, scaly throat of whichever damned Grimm decided to swallow him whole, he can feel acidic saliva burn through the fabric of his coat and sear his shoulders. The substance is hot as a flame and thick as glue.

His phone is completely destroyed.

Rats.

But his cane is still working, still functioning, and the handle has never felt more secure in his hands. This won't be it; he's lived too much to be snuffed out this easily – this suddenly. It'd be easy enough to destroy the Grimm from the inside; he has enough ammunition, and he hasn't even turned it up to full power yet.

He is slammed sideways, and snarls to himself in the darkness as he loses his footing. Was that Red, with her gigantic weed whacker? When he gets out, he decides, she'll be the first to go. He'll hunt her down and choke her white neck with one hand, and watch as her pretty little face turns red, then purple, and then go slack. It won't be hard; if Neo's still alive (and he has no doubt that she is), he might even let her help.

Maybe.

Red is his; always has been, and always will be.

He's never been good at sharing.

* * *

A small, maniacal part of his mind, the part of him that's never been rational, that's always seen logic as more of a _guideline_ than a _rule_ wonders if maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he stayed here. If he ignored the sound of his own heartbeat and the cries in his own head, then it was quite quiet in here, and very comfortable. That's all he's ever wanted, right? To never have to worry about all of those heroes and villains and all the fools in between, ever again.

But the sweet satisfaction of revenge is too tempting, and the prospect to seeing the look on Red's face when he won whatever battle they raged together controlled his trigger finger.

 _He is the man in the belly of the beast, and although he's barely alive, he can't help but look forward to whatever happens next._

* * *

 **oooooooo0000000000** **ooooooo**

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 **oooooooo0000000000** **ooooooo**

* * *

The monster is so gigantic and awesome in size that Ruby took two steps backward before coming to her senses and unsheathing her blade. Swallowing the shock of Roman Torchwick's sudden and unexpected demise, she prepared to unleash everything she had on this new opponent. But she is stopped in her tracks when a scream rips through the air as the neck of the Grimm bulged on one side, stretched –

Red explodes on the left side, and the creature wails again, keeling over on its side and flailing miserably. Its black, scaly skin stretched and contorted near the neck. Another explosion rattles her skull, and a flash of light blows her off of her feet and sends her skidding to the ground. Flesh and thick bone fly into the air like shrapnel, and Ruby is forced to cover her face and eyes with her arms, shielding herself from the shower. Smoke reached her nostrils.

The ground beneath her shifted, and she yelped. Sinking Crescent Rose's blade into the ship and grabbing the handle, she struggled to regain her balance. She clung onto her weapon as the airship lurched to the side again, this time nearly sideways.

The severed head of the massive Grimm fell below her, down into the night.

The airship righted itself, barely, shakily, and she was tossed to the other side as a result of the sudden equilibrium. Ruby stumbled and tightened her hold on the handle of her weapon, panting. Glancing up at the collapsed Grimm, her jaw clattered to the floor at the sight before her. A white figure was perched on the gaping hole of the carcass, a long cane in hand. Ruby's heart nearly stopped in her chest, and her blood went cold.

Dripping in gore, clad in tattered clothes and a ghoulish grin, was –

"Torchwick?"

"Dear little Red. Where are you going? Did you really think I was done with you?" He tilted his head and he pointed his cane at her face.

 _That's still intact?_ The fact that the cane had endured direct swipes from Crescent Rose, and being swallowed whole by a Grimm both confused and impressed her. She made a mental note to find out whatever material it was made of – that was, if she lived long enough to get out of this mess. A red star of light came hurling toward her, and she barely moved out of the way in time. It whistled past her shoulder and into the night behind her.

Well, this is déjà vu, she thought briefly. She shook her head, dumbfounded. "What…how did you…?"

"Never mind that. It's time for some fun."

The villain carefully dismounted the dark mountain of flesh that was already disintegrating into the air before her eyes, and approached her again, this time swinging his cane playfully in his hands.

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She could only watch the black powder blow away in the wind like dust.

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 _end_

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 _The real answer: the devil still has his cane._

 _Two. Words. Caw-caw, motherfuckers._

 _Or is that three?_


	3. Are there ever enough stones to throw?

**_Song: Everybody Wants to Rule the World, cover by Lorde._**

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 ** _The song isn't applied very well, but this was made very late at night and I was scrambling. Plus I was listening to the song, and I kind of loved it, so…enjoy?_**

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"… _.help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure…nothing ever lasts forever…."_

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He has money. He has respect. His shoes are squeaky clean and he doesn't have to dig through dumpsters for the scraps of food clinging to the insides of metal cans or the bits of meat on the ends of broken chicken bones. He isn't starving or crying or dirty like when he was just that little kid afraid of everything. He will never have to be that kid again. But it isn't enough. It will never be enough.

Sometimes there are not enough stones to throw. There aren't enough windows to break, fences to tear down, or faces to smash in. There isn't enough air in his lungs for him to open his mouth and scream as loud, loud, loud as he can.

When he is a young boy, he is beaten to an inch of his life by a metal stick wielded by a large, leering man who instructs him to call him 'Sir'.

 _{(He called him 'Pops' once, in a fleeting second of grandeur and misplaced confidence. That was a grave mistake.)}_

A wet rag is tossed in his face while he's still on the ground, cheek against stony gravel. The woman who calls herself his mother is silent and doesn't speak. He doesn't know if he's ever heard her open her mouth to utter a word in front of him. For all he knew, she could be mute.

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 _{(She never speaks to him in the twelve years he calls himself her son and he never bothers to wonder.)}_

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He liked to climb the buildings that line the rotten streets of his home and scamper to the roof, unseen, just like the filthy street rat he is. There is dirt in his ear holes, in his mouth, in between his toes, and every orifice on his skin. His body is simply crawling in a thousand things that have been everywhere and back, and his head is stuffed with death and the sewage found in the drainage systems.

Roman likes to crawl onto the roof of a certain building that's crumbling and old but still strong enough to stand. The worn brick seems soft to him compared to the harsh lines of the old man's mouth and the sharp edge of his mother's silence. Here, he can watch the cars blur into colors below him and citizens of Vale (those lucky, lucky bastards) go to and fro with their business. It's become his pastime, and people tend to learn things when time slows down and the weight of survival is off of their shoulders.

The edge of the building, the edge of the world. It's the same thing to him.

 _(At least, it's the same thing to a scrawny boy who's spent his life flitting behind the streets and snatching the elements of life from people's pockets and straight into his fingers.)_

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 _I'm alive._

 _I'm alive._

 _I'm alive._

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He's seen a thousand sunsets from the top of his perch, all of them beautiful, all of them different. But not one of them held a candle to _her_ , to her determination, to her unintentional wit, to her kindness, or to the brilliance that she didn't even know she had.

* * *

Ruby Rose is pesky and inconvenient, but at the moment she's the only reliable thing he's had in years, and he is intoxicated to the point of addiction. Roman Torchwick of the past wouldn't be proud, but the he of the present doesn't have it in him to care anymore. Sometimes she's the most irritating person he's ever met, but she's also the only person who's ever taken the time to give a damn. So she stays around, and he lets her. He hates to say that he enjoys her company, but it's true.

She likes cookies, he notices. She has some strange sort of passion for the dessert that's borderline greed. With her speed and metabolism, he isn't surprised that she's often hungry and ransacking his refrigerator for food.

 _("Thief."_

" _Speak for yourself.")_

However, her fondness for cookies not only amuses him but puzzles him to an extent that he asks her about it one afternoon when she's scarfing away at the crumbs still left on her plate.

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" _They remind me of my mother. Before she died, we used to have milk and cookies together at the end of every school week and talk. It was nice. After she was gone, Dad always made sure we had a fully-stocked cookie jar, but it was never the same."_

" _Oh. So you like cookies so much because they temporarily fill the void left by the absence of a deceased parental figure?"_

" _Uh, sure."_

" _Oh…oh, look, Red, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that, I…"_

" _It's alright. It doesn't matter."_

" _Yes, it does."_

" _It's fine. Besides, I also like cookies because they're the most delicious thing in the world and they're amazing and I love them and -"_

He understands it. Maybe he doesn't really get it, but he understands it.

As for Roman, he has a fascination for food himself. He's no culinary expert, but he just _knows_ about food. The feeling of having something edible and good in his hands that he can devour or savor at his choice is exhilarating. Knowing that whatever he puts into his mouth won't be rotten or stale is a power he cannot give up. He knows what it's like to go hungry, to starve - to waste away until you're nothing more than a skeleton with flesh hanging from your bones. He won't ever go back to that life, not if it kills him.

* * *

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Their first kiss is unexpected and sudden, but he saw it coming.

She doesn't look at him for at least a week, but the day after that is an entirely different story.

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Sometimes he wonders if Cinder knows, if she's known all along after all. She is clever, and no matter how careful he is, sometimes he can feel her stare on his back. Sometimes he imagines red target signs painted on his chest, and red x's scrawled over Red's face like tally marks.

* * *

"… _turn your back on Mother Nature, everybody wants to rule the world."_

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An arrow slices through her belt and her uniform and imbeds itself in her right hip. The golden shimmer of deteriorating flesh glimmers through black fabric, and her eyes roll up in the back of her head. Without a sound, she topples backwards over the edge of the wall.

He rushes to the edge, heart in his throat and cane in his hands. He peers over the side in a panic. The sides of his mouth are unusually dry, and sweat is beaded on his brow.

 _No. No. No. Please, no. Please let Cinder have failed. Please. Please. Please._

He's praying for the first time in his life, he is begging and praying and pleading to a god he doesn't believe in, because Ruby Rose's body is lying on the street feet below him, bent at an awkward angle and disintegrating into gold dust before his eyes.

A gust of wind ripples through the air, and he watches from a distance as the one person he's ever learned to trust and like (besides himself and Neo) is reduced to…nothing.

Ruby Rose, that kind, young Huntress, is gone.

The howl that rips through his mouth is a pained one, like a wolf screaming to the moon.

" _You BITCH!"_ he spat at the woman behind him. Her calculating golden eyes narrowed in ill-concealed surprise.

" _What did you just call me?"_ she hissed silently. He could tell from her tone of voice that this was her final warning to him. But he didn't care. That little girl, the one who proved to be an annoyance and a saving grace was gone – _dead_ – in less than a minute. And for what?

He raised his cane and took aim. His mind was clouded in shock, fury, and grief, but he knew the moment she raised her hand and her eyes glowed that this was the end.

He was wrong.

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 _She's alive._

 _She's alive._

 _She's alive._

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Ruby Rose is back, and her silver eyes are glowing white. She is different – she is flying. Levitating. Whatever. It is an impressive sight. What's nearly as impressive is the deep shade of purple Cinder's otherwise aesthetically pleasing face takes on. Ruby (or that girl who _looks_ like Ruby) steps to the ground and pushes Roman to the side without a glance. She approaches Cinder calmly. Her heart-shaped lips are red on her pretty face, and her fingertips are simply glowing with power.

The symbol on her belt is different too – a simple silver cross hangs from her belt. _What is going on?_

Most people only live once. But Ruby Rose had the nerve to break this rule, and Roman Torchwick couldn't be happier.

Of course, he would never tell her that.

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They've survived a war together. Here they are, underneath all of this rubble and ash, the phoenix of this reborn city.

They're alive. They're alive and whole.

 _{(We'll wait and see if we're not fractured.)}_

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 _We're alive._

 _We're alive._

 _We're alive._

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 _{Everybody wants to rule the world.}_


End file.
